


The Benefits of Returning Field Equipment

by statesofuncertainty



Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: 00Q - Freeform, Anal Sex, Bond is a good shag, Bond returns one of Q's spy toys and Q is delighted, Bottom Q, Casual Sex, First Time, Kissing, M/M, Q is a good shag, Q is very attractive so I wrote this, Tea, Top James Bond, everyone is happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-10
Updated: 2015-12-10
Packaged: 2018-05-05 22:49:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5393168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/statesofuncertainty/pseuds/statesofuncertainty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>007 smiled at him through the peep hole.</p><p>“Go away.”</p><p>“Not a chance.” Was the muffled reply.</p><p>With a lingering glance at the ceiling as if to tell whatever deity that their plan to ruin his night in had succeeded, Q turned the lock and opened the door.</p><p>“Please come in.” He said with a tight smile</p><p>“Ah such warmhearted civility.” Bond grinned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Benefits of Returning Field Equipment

**Author's Note:**

> Lost: 1 soul, probably damaged due to high consumption levels of p0rn. Please return to the author as she needs it in case she gets struck by heavenly lightning as divine punishment for writing trash.

The Darkness was only interrupted by the bright computer screen, and the silence only broken by the quiet tap tap tap of Q's keyboard as his capable fingers typed out a few more lines of code. If he had time he would stop and congratulate himself on the sheer genius of his newest encoding programme, but perhaps that would be a bit too much.

The loud knock at the apartment door made Q shoot a questioning glance at the door; nobody ever knocked at his door...well he was usually at MI6 so maybe they did knock but he was never here to answer. Making sure to turn off the screen Q reached for the light switch and headed towards the door.

007 smiled at him through the peep hole.

“Go away.”

“Not a chance.” Was the muffled reply.

With a lingering glance at the ceiling as if to tell whatever deity that their plan to ruin his night in had succeeded, Q turned the lock and opened the door.

“Please come in.” He said with a tight smile

“Ah such warmhearted civility.”

Rolling his eyes Q closed the door behind Bond and reached out to take Bond's coat.

“Thank-you,” Bond said as Q hung the coat in the small closet behind the door. “Why the hostility? I would have thought a bit of late night company would interest you.” Bond continued with the underlying suggestiveness that he so often implied.

Q raised his eyebrows, unimpressed. “You failed to return the camera tie pin.”

“So that is why you have been pointedly ignoring me?”

“Do you know how much time I spent making that tie pin!? It is the world's smallest live stream camera of that HD quality and I don't even have a Guinness record to show for it because of confidentiality requirements. No, actually all I have to show is 3 minutes of footage before _SPLASH_.” Q swung his arms up in resignation.

The entrance way lights shone harshly on Bond's face aging him, but there is a glimmer in his eyes that reversed the effect and turned him almost boyish.

“No, you have 3 minutes of footage and a somewhat operational tie pin camera.” Bond smiles opening his hand to show Q the inconspicuous silver tie pin with the three inset gemstones, one of which was the miniature camera.

Q stares at him in amazement, “But you were on that rope bridge, it must have fallen into the sea!”

Bond shook his head. “No it only fell into a small lagoon. I had an evening off and I needed to refresh my scuba diving skills.”

Q held the pin up to the light, before stepping back with a grin. “Tea?”

Bond gave a sharp nod, and Q retreated to the kitchen with his prize pressed warmly into his palm. The kettle began to boil and as Q prepared the teapot he looked up at Bond who in his perfectly tailored suit looked somewhat out of place in this cramped kitchen. Q's own rumpled suit had been partially discarded hours ago, the suit jacket lay over the arm of the sofa, but although his dress shirt had become slightly untucked it was still completely done up and the tie was still perfectly in place.

“Sugar?”

“No. Just cream.” Bond replied.

“Pass me two mugs would you.” Q asked pointing to the cupboards behind Bond's head.

Bond grabbed two of the matching blue mugs and set them out on the small table.

“I have some biscuits, but not much else.” Q said looking over his shoulder.

“That is fine, I already had dinner.”

Q placed the teapot on the table and sitting he reached for the biscuits before pouring the tea. “How long did it take for you to find it?”

“Not that long, I used a metal detector. Turns out that uninhabited islands don't have much metal laying in the bottom of lagoons so only a few stray scraps set the alarm off before I picked up on the pin.”

“If only you showed that much dedication in attempting to recover other gadgets.” Q muttered into his tea.

“Fine next time a komodo dragon eats my hand gun, I'll make sure to ignore the assassins, bouncers and gang leaders and focus solely on gutting the lizard and recovering the weapon before being beaten to death. And since my dead corpse won't be able to return it, lets just hope that you engraved a return address so my murders can mail it back to you.”

Q almost choked on a biscuit as he laughed.

“Thank-you for returning it double-oh-seven.” Q said as he pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose.

“It's the least I can do.”

Both men sat comfortably across each other at the cheap dinner table, Bond lounging back and Q sitting cross-legged on his perch looking at 007. The agent showed no symptoms of the injuries he had sustained while on the last mission during which Bond had been annoyed at the loss of his favourite suit. After the mission ended the dry cleaners told him that there was no possible way of removing a pint and a half of blood from the fabric and the suit had been binned. Of course he had gone and had an identical one made; but that wasn't the point. It was the suit he was wearing now, the suit jacket fit perfectly across his broad chest and the trousers fit his arse in a way that often had Q choosing to walk behind him rather then ahead. Even in the comfortable slouch in which 007 sat the suit still made him look as if he were standing to attention. Q's own half-hearted attempts at dressing like an adult had resulted in the combination of suits with black kondor sneakers, which he refused to change for a pair of dress shoes much to M's chagrin. Using the tunnels as the new Q-branch headquarters had meant long days in cold damp rooms which had made sweaters and warm cardigans a favourite clothing choice for much of Q-branch; 004 had once sneered at Q's woolly red and white striped sweater, and Q had replied calmly that if 004 ever so much as raised an eyebrow again, he would find that his guns might be defective during the next mission. 007 had much more sense and although Q knew it pained him to see the bottoms of his suit pants spilling over the top of his sneakers, he never mentioned it. Q took another sip of tea before looking back up to Bond's icy blue eyes.“So why didn't you just give the tie pin to Collin or Moneypenny? They could have delivered it to me. This part of London must be quite a ways from your apartment.”

“Brainwashing, I am trying to get you to associate me with returned gadgets.”

Q snorted “It's a bit late for that Bond”

Bond shrugged, “Well with the last two missions I noticed that there was a distinct lack of exploding pens, I asked Collin about it and he said that 'Q is pissed off at you for loosing the tie pin' and as I feel that all missions could be improved by the use of an exploding pen I am trying to correct that error.”

“Well it's not a bad start.” Q said swallowing the last drops of his tea. “What else are you planning on doing to rectify the situation?” he asked untangling himself and walking over to grab Bond's now empty mug.

“I have a few ideas.” Bond winked, his head tilted up looking up at Q.

The Quartermaster narrowed his eyes for a second, calculations whizzing infront of his eyes. There were some disadvantages to getting involved with anyone who worked at MI6 let alone a double-O agent, but he had been on the receiving end of Bond's ear pieces long enough to know that he must be a spectacular shag. Good sex always outweighed poor life choices...well not really, but that wasn't the point. Decision made Q set down the empty mugs back on the table and with a hint of a smirk he leaned one arm on the table and with an almost causal air said “A few ideas?”

“Well more then a few.” The agent replied with a shrug as he leaned forward.

And with that Q closed his eyes and pressed his lips to Bond's.

007's mouth opened willingly as Q brushed his tongue across Bond's lips, the heat of the agent making Q step even closer and run his fingers through the short blond hair. 007 for his part placed on hand on Q's upper back and the other on his arse internally smirking at the small jump Q gave when he squeezed. Bond caught Q's bottom lip and sucked it feeling the sharp exhale on his face as Q stiffened at the sensation. The younger man quickly retaliated and Bond's half lidded eyes closed as Q's tongue wrapped around his own. Pulling him even closer forcing Q to move his hands to the back of the chair for support, he grabbed another handful of arse and flexed his fingers into the soft flesh. Q broke away with a gasp and Bond being denied his Quartermaster's mouth settled for pressing hard kisses to Q's jawline, while his hands tugged at the tie that still hung perfectly from the younger mans neck. A nearly silent gasp escaped Q's throat as Bond licked a thick trail from jaw to ear, finally with his Quartermaster breathless Bond sat up straight, adjusted the angle at which his legs were spread before pulling Q down and sitting him down facing him on his lap with legs either side of Bond's muscled thighs. Q's hands fumbled with his tie as Bond's hands grasped his hips firmly and pressed more kisses onto Q's mouth allowing his tongue to coax his open again.

Finally tossing the tie aside Q grasped Bond's shoulders feeling the muscles ripple as they moved in unison causing the chair to squeak in protest. Q pulled away.

“If this breaks my chair you will have to replace it.” He said a trifle less calm and collected then what he had been aiming for.

Bond pulled back a small distance. “Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

Bond gave a short huff, “Fine.” and with one smooth motion he wrapped one arm around Q, stood up and carrying him a few steps he firmly pressed him up against the wall. Q's pupils eclipsed his irises at this effortless show of strength.

“Now the chair will be fine.” Bond said leaning closer, as the smaller man's legs wound tightly around his waist.

“Damn the chair.” Q growled and ground down on to Bond's hard cock, the sensation causing Bond's heart to skip a beat. Pressing his advantage Q covered Bond's mouth with his own and suckling Bond's tongue. With a moan Bond removed his suit jacket one arm at a time so he wouldn't let go of Q who continued to rub his cock through four layers of clothing.

Confidant of Bond's hold on him, Q reached for the buttons that hid Bond's chest from him and with steady yet almost frantic fingers he swiftly undid the first half before Bond pressed him even harder against the wall freeing his own arms to do the same to Q's shirt.

“This would be easier if we went to my bed.” Q suggested as Bond ground up into him.

“Hmm.” Bond agreed and he reluctantly lowered Q who quickly lead the way to the medium sized bedroom a few steps down a hall.

Bond automatically assessed the new space. The walls were decorated -if that was the word- by randomly scattered pages all in clusters tacked onto the wall, they seemed to have equations and designs for various gadgets on them. The furniture was simple and spotless with the exception of the queen sized bed which sat in the middle of the room unmade.

Bond gave Q a pointed look.

Q responded with a shrug, “I only make my bed when my mother comes by to visit.” before shoving the rumpled covers to the side. Bond took a step forward and slowly removed Q's thick framed glasses and placed them on top of the dresser. The combination of unreasonably thick lenses, ruffled hair, and his lean frame made Q look like a teenager, and made Bond feel like a creepy old man; but the loss of Q's glasses added another five years to his face.

“There is no way your birth certificate is not a forgery. You couldn't have been born before the 90's”

Q looked at him quizzically.

“You look 15 when you are wearing your glasses, and about 20 when they are off.”

Q smiled “That is over the age of consent.”

“And over half my age. Almost a third of it actually.”

“Maybe that is what I like about you.” Q replied standing directly infront of Bond.

“Daddy issues?” Bond asked with a smirk.

“Don't bring my parents into this it's disturbing.”

“You'll probably start calling me 'Daddy'.”

Q grabbed Bond's shoulders and dragged him down for a kiss, at least that way he would stop suggesting such off putting things. Turning them around Q pushed Bond onto the bed. Crawling over him and draping his legs across Bond's chest he returned to the kiss. Bond's arms came up and wrapped around Q's slim shoulders as their kiss deepened. For someone who looked like he had no social life and spent all his time working on computers, Q clearly knew what he was doing. Bond's hands drifted down and finished untucking Q's white shirt and plucking free the last remaining buttons. The man above him moaned as Bond ran his hands over peaked nipples before sitting up and slipping the shirt off.

Bond raised a brow at a small bruise that looked suspiciously like a hickey on Q's left collarbone, Q looked down and flushed. “Ah---my friend is always a bit over enthusiastic.”

“Friend?”

Q shrugged “With benefits.”

“Those are the best kind of friends.”

Q smiled before freeing Bond's shirt and undoing the rest of the buttons. Bond watched those long elegant fingers spread across his chest as if he were some fascinating blueprint for a new submarine.

“There are condoms and lube in the night stand.” Q said looking up from his study.

“Are you asking me to fuck you?”

“Perhaps, if you are _up_ to it I mean, you were calling yourself an old man just now, and old men are notorious for-” And before Q could finish that sentence Bond had flipped them and shoved Q up the bed with a bruising kiss. With one hand pulling Q's hair just enough to send pulses of pleasure down Q's spine, and the other quickly finding the drawer and withdrawing the large tube of lube Bond ground down on his Quartermaster's thin hips causing the younger man to cry out.

“Trousers. Off. Now.” Bond ordered lifting himself off enough so that Q could scramble to undo his flies and throw the offending garment to the floor, soon followed his black briefs.

“That's better.” Bond rumbled leaning back over Q and kissing him as his lube covered finger massaged it's way into Q's hole. The mop of black hair grew increasingly damp as Q squirmed under Bond's administrations.

“More. I can take more.” The Quartermaster gasped out as bond smiled against his lips.

Bond looked down past Q's rapidly heaving chest, and past his erect cock that Bond was deliberately not giving any attention, to the spot where his hand was buried between Q's thighs. Grabbing more lube he slowly inserted a second finger, his eye focused on the gasping lips and tightly shut eyes that the younger man displayed. Bond rotated his wrist causing Q's eyes to fly open at the sensation before settling on Bond's determined expression.

“Another.” Q demanded a few minutes later, his breathing had slowed a bit but it rose rapidly as Bond thrust in a third lube covered digit. Bond watched as the young man writhed and clenched down on his fingers before finally shooting out a hand and undoing the belt and flies that still covered Bond's body. With expertise Bond removed his trousers and pre-cum soaked pants with one hand, while Q thrashed an arm around in the search for a condom. After knocking the clock and a couple of books off the nightstand Q finally grabbed what he had been looking for and tore open the package with his teeth.

“Here.” He said offering the opened wrapper.

Bond paused to look at the boy, his normally ruffled hair was damp and sticking to his forehead, twin pale pink peaks stuck out from the pale expanse of Q's chest. The burnette was not skinny, he was slender and there was evidence of MI6's obligatory self defense training in the lean muscle that covered his body. Of course it was nothing in comparison to Bond's own muscle mass, but it was still more then would be expected. There was a trimmed cluster of dark hair at the base of Q's penis that indeed did matched the drapes, and which extended down his thighs. For all of his boyish appearance clearly his body produced a lot of testosterone for the amount of leg hair that he had. Bond took the open condom and slipped it on with ease before adding more lube and gently removing his fingers.

“Ready?”

Q's eyes flickered down and he noted that Bond was a great deal thicker then his usual sex-partners. The clear plastic of the condom hid nothing; thick veins pulsed up to the head which was dark red in colour and slick with lube and pre-cum. Q was suddenly hit with the desire to lick it, to take it as far down his throat as he could and let Bond fuck his throat while he gasped for air, drool dripping out with each thrust of double-oh-seven's cock. Swallowing hard Q looked up into Bond's blue eyes and nodded.

Bond pushed in.

It had been over a year since Bond had last had anal sex; it took a lot of preparation and since women had self-lubricating vaginas and were usually reluctant to have anal during a one-night stand, Bond didn't usually engage in it; he had almost forgotten the tightness and heat that awaited him beyond that ring of muscle. Bond's excellent self-control held through as his cock begged for long hard thrusts, instead allowing his focus to turn on to the boy in whose arse he was balls deep.

Q's eyes stayed screwed shut until Bond had become fully seated, a series of rapid silent gasps and half muttered words escaped Q's mouth, while a few beads of sweat rolled down his forehead, even as he brushed them away with a flailing hand. He had never felt so full in his life. The stretch was reducing him to a garbling mess infront of MI6's most valued agent. Usually he could take a cock quite easily after proper preparation, but the unprecedented girth of Bond's cock had thrown his body for a loop. The embarrassment crossed with the floods of pleasure had Q settling with crossing his arms over his eyes and staring into the darkness of his elbows.

Bond reached up and pulled his arms away and held them down on the bed, Q looked at him, a high flush on his cheeks. He gave a barely perceptible nod and Bond repositioned himself and pulled out leaving just the tip inside before thrusting back in with vigor. Q cried out. Bond braced himself over the young man's body and repeated the action once, twice and a third time, each thrust drawing out a gasping cry from Q's throat.

“Who were you calling an old man?” Bond demanded punctuating the question with a thrust that pushed Q even further up the bed.

“N-n-n-not you.” Q panted wrapping his legs tightly around Bond.

“Damn right.” Bond heaved out with another hard thrust. “And who is going to be the one coming like a teenager without anyone touching their cock?”

Q's eyes were now wide open and almost glazed over as his mouth tried to huff out the words “I am.” His hands settling on holding the metal headboard with a white knuckled grip.

The rhythmic sound of skin slapping together made Bond look down and his eyes met with the sight of Q's dripping prick bouncing up and down with each hard thrust. There was nothing touching the slender column of flesh but the cool air of the room, and yet it was as hard as Bond's own cock. Suddenly there was a hand in his hair pulling his attention back up to Q's face.

“Double-oooh----I'm-”

The usually eloquent Q never finished that sentence as his eyes suddenly fixated on one spot on the ceiling as his back arched and his mouth opened. Bond thrust in hard one more time, and Q came with a scream.

Bond watched fixated as Q's muscles spasmed around his prick as he continued to thrust. The sensation of semen hitting his abdomen combined with the tight heat of Q's trembling arse was too much and Bond bent over and laying his mouth and sucking a new mark over the week old hickey on Q's left collarbone, he came hard with a rumbling moan.

Next thing he knew, Q was removing the condom from his throbbing prick and throwing it with perfect aim into the trashcan by the door, before handing him some wet wipes from the night stand.

Bond looked up at him. Q's hair was drying plastered against his forehead and the high flush had not yet left his cheeks.

“I hope your parents didn't hear us, we weren't exactly quiet.” Bond said lazily.

Q glared and threw a pillow directly at him before Bond could dodge it.“We have been over this, I am a big boy capable of doing big boy things double-oh-seven.”

Bond laughed before sitting up and making as if to get out of bed. Q watched him for a moment before saying “I have no gag reflex.” Bond looked over at him quizzically, Q gave him a nonchalant look “Just thought I'd tell you.”

Bond grinned and got back on the bed “Now that is a good argument for staying the night.”

 

\------------------------------

Thank you for reading.

Any errors are mine, and since I wrote this at 2am I expect there to be several mistakes so please do point them out :)

I will get back to my usual Johnlock soon.

 

 


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